This mythological-erotic poem was published in 1593 with a dedication to
Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. So Stratfordians assume it was
written in 1592 while the theaters they say were closed down and that
Southampton was a patron. Oh, and there are woods in it, so that clearly
indicates Stratford.

Conversely, this poem provides the "first recorded occurrence of the name
William Shakespeare as that of the author ... and the way in which it was
introduced indicates that it was a pseudonym and meant to be recognized
as such. To begin with, it appeared not on the title page but only as the
subscription to the dedication" (Ogburn 93).

The story comes from Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book X, with influences
from other Ovidian stories. The number of early printings of Venus and
Adonis may suggest it was the most popular piece by Shake-speare
during his lifetime. The fact that more than once is Adonis' hat mentioned
is idiosyncratic, but not if the poet saw Titian's painting, on display in
Titian's home in Venice in the mid-1570s when Oxford was traveling in Italy.
Titian's house was a party center for the nobility (Farina 220).

The dedication to Wriothesley includes mention of the poem itself as "the
first heir of my invention." Ogburn explains that "All difficulties with
[the phrase] disappear if we take it that the author, as was his
practice, was using words in accordance with their meaning. A poem cannot
inherit an inventive faculty; it is the product, not the heir of such a
faculty. On the other hand, if 'my invention' is an invented name, the
poem that appears under it can very well be said to have inherited it. A
name is above all what an offspring inherits" (95).

Adonis is eager to go hunting, but even within the first stanza we shift
to historical present and Venus' attempt "to woo him" (6). She wants to
play kissy-face and yanks him off his horse (30). He's young, blushing,
and pouty (33). She overpowers him and makes him promise at least one
kiss. Then she lectures: carpe diem, her own charms, warnings against
narcissism, breeding rhetoric similar to that in the Sonnets.
Titan, the sun-god, plays the envious voyeur (177f), and Adonis is too
hot (186) and impatient. Venus still wants her kiss and tries feigning
outrage, using insults, and crying (211f). She clutches Adonis and
compares her body to a park; he should be a deer. Adonis springs away,
but his horse sees a small mare and equine courtship aborts Adonis'
getaway.

Venus resumes her wooing, praising Adonis' effect on each of her senses.
When he opens his mouth to reject her again, she faints (463), or fakes
it (471). Adonis tries to revive her and kisses her, which is just fine
by her. Passion overcomes her but he still resists. When she tries to
make a date for tomorrow, he says he's got a boar hunt planned. She has a
panic attack and grabs his neck, falling backwards with him on top of
her. Oops. She paints a terrifying portrait of the boar and begs him to
hunt a more timid animal, like a bunny maybe. Breeding rhetoric recurs
(751f), at which point Adonis stops her proselytizing (769f) and
pontificates on the differences between Love and Lust.

Adonis leaves and Venus spends the night pining and wailing. In the
morning she hears sounds of the hunt and runs to where they come from.
She sees the boar, "Whose frothy mouth [is] bepainted all with red, /
Like milk and blood being mingled both together" (901-902). She sees
various wounded dogs, assumes Adonis has been killed, and rails against
Death. When she hears a huntsman's call she entertains a glimmer of hope
and apologizes to Death, but she comes upon the corpse of Adonis and the
ground and plants soaked with his blood. Venus provides a eulogy and
convinces herself that the boar accidentally killed Adonis when trying to
make out with him. She vows that Love heretofore will forever be mingled
with misery (jealousy, fickleness, mistrust, perversity, etc.). A purple
and white flower springs up from Adonis' blood. Venus will carry this
close to her heart. She goes into seclusion.

"No one I can well imagine was in a position to strumpet young Edward's
virtue but Elizabeth, a sovereign who could hardly be gainsaid. Here, of
course, one thinks at once of Venus and Adonis, in which a
skittish, still unawakened youth is subjected to and repelled by heated
advances of an experienced Queen of Love, only to be slain, like the 9th
Earl of Oxford, by a boar, the de Vere symbol" (Ogburn 512).

For some psychoanalytic perspective on the poem, see Alan B. Rothenberg,
"Infantile Fantasies in Shakespearean Metaphor: I. The Fear of Being
Smothered." Psychoanalytic Review 60.2 (1973): 205-222.